


Stay Loose

by viklikesfic (v_angelique)



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-17
Updated: 2006-04-17
Packaged: 2017-10-05 21:39:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_angelique/pseuds/viklikesfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This, despite the complete lack of smut and the unholy mention of Domlijah, is dedicated to <a href="http://rawiyaparand.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://rawiyaparand.livejournal.com/"><b>rawiyaparand</b></a> for highly amusing conversation and support.  An attempt at Monaboyd songfic, based on one of my favourite songs and what could have happened in Mexico.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay Loose

_I was choking on a cornflake  
You said "Have some toast instead"  
I was sleeping maybe three hours  
You said "You should get to bed"  
I was waiting at the church door  
For the minister to show  
I was looking at the new year  
You said "Walk before you crawl"  
I was feeling like a loser  
You said "Hey, you've still got me"   
I was feeling pretty lonely   
You said "You wanted to be free"_

      Dom glanced at the door to the hotel suite, contemplated the minibar again, and willed his foot to quit its nervous tapping. He wouldn't come in. He wouldn't come in. He wouldn't….

      "Evening, Dommeh."

      Dom looked up guiltily, bottle of whisky in hand but not yet opened. "Um, hey Bills. I was just, uh, getting this out for you…"

      Billy raised an eyebrow and walked over to the double bed, taking a seat close enough to Dom that their thighs were touching. "I don't drink Jack Daniels, Dominic."

      "Right, well, um…" Billy frowned, and Dom felt instantly guilty. Funny how after a year of living with Elijah, disapproving looks never meant much too him, but the minute he thought Billy was upset with him, he would run away from whatever vice he had been indulging in with his tail between his legs.

      "Hey, Dommeh." Billy's voice was soft, and his palm comforting on Dom's thigh. "You can't quit everything cold turkey, can yeh, lad? I'm here for you."

     Dom wondered idly how a gentle kiss to his temple could possibly make him feel even _more_ guilty.

_I was looking for a good time  
You said "Let the good times start"  
With a quiver of your eyelid  
You took on someone else's part  
Maybe I'm a little greedy  
You said "Think before you speak"  
Sometimes I'm a little seedy  
You said "Everyone is weak"  
Now I feel a little better  
Is there something I can do?  
But I never heard the answer  
I never had a clue_

      "What's wrong, Dommeh?" Dom cringed at Billy's all-powerful intuitiveness, flipping through the seemingly numberless cable channels on the TV of the sleek hotel room Billy's production company had provided.

      "Nothing. I'm fine."

      "No you're not, lad. You miss Elijah?"

      "I miss… going out." Dom was honest, but Billy's sigh still hurt. They sat in silence for another moment, until Billy got an idea.

      "You think the fecker is the only one who knows how to have a good time?" Dom looked up, suspicious, eyeing the glimmer in Billy's eye as if he had sprouted gills. "C'mon, Dommeh!" he insisted, grabbing Dom by the wrist and dragging him off the bed. "We're going out!"

      "But you said you didn't think I should be drinking…"

      "Not to the pub, you git. Come on, I have a brilliant idea!"

 

      Twenty minutes later, lying on the edge of the road in what was essentially the desert, staring at the stars, Dom had a very strong urge to suggest going back to the hotel and Mexican television. But, he realized, he couldn't purposefully deflate that brilliant smile any more than he could fight depression on his own, and so he forced himself to find the good in the situation.

      Rolling over, dirt and some sort of desert-rock cutting into his hip, Dom let his eyes sweep down Billy's body. He had indulged himself with Elijah plenty of times, convincing the younger man that it would help him forget his depression, ease his way out of his funk, and Elijah caved. Elijah was all yielding angles and baby soft curves, and though he didn't do a thing to ease up on the depression, it didn't hurt Dom's libido.

      He reached out, brushed his finger along Billy's cheek, and watched as Billy's head lolled to the side, bright green eyes facing him. He moved in for the kill.

      "Dommeh."

      He paused, inches away from Billy's lips, and frowned. "What?"

      "I'm not a replacement." Dom's frown deepened.

      "No… no, it's not that, I just thought." Billy smiled brightly and placed a very chaste kiss to Dom's forehead.

      "Everyone has their weak moments, Dommeh. It's all right."

      Bugger.

_But what about me  
I don't really see  
How things will improve  
If all you want is to stay loose_

      Driving back to the hotel, Dom turned slightly to surreptitiously observe Billy by the moonlight. What the hell was wrong with him? Why wouldn't Billy kiss him, just a little? It might help. It wasn't like they hadn't ever kissed in New Zealand. Elijah had done it! Maybe Elijah was just a better friend…

      But no, that wasn't it, and he wanted to deck himself for thinking it. Billy was beautiful. Billy was pure. To his horror, Dom really wanted Billy. He didn't just want a place to put his dick; he wanted a person to guard his heart. He sighed and turned away, gazed out the window. For Billy, he was willing to do better. He just wasn't sure he was strong enough to succeed.

_There's a little echo calling  
Like a miner trapped inside  
If I tell him of this moment  
He will in me doubts confide  
And he's on me like a blanket  
Like a stalk of wilting grass  
I'm not sure about his motives  
I'm not sure about his past_

      As he drove through the Mexican desert, Billy tried not to let his thoughts go there. He knew what Dominic was playing at, and he knew he had to be resolute. He couldn't let his own hopes cloud his judgment; he had a job to do, after all. In allowing Billy to help him, Dom was trusting Billy in a way he couldn't trust Elijah. Billy had to respect that, and realize that his own fantasies weren't going to come true. This wasn't the Dom of New Zealand. This Dom was broken, lazy, depressed… he needed comfort, not a boyfriend. He had to be strong, but it was so hard.

_But my faith is like a bullet  
My belief is like a bolt  
The only thing that lets me sleep at night  
A little carriage of the soul  
If it starts a little bleaker  
Then the year may yet be gold  
Happiness is not for keeping  
Happiness is not my goal_

      As Billy listened to Dom's breathing in the next bed over, he reminded himself of his goals. Get Dom better. Remind him why life is worth living. Do not fall in the love with the stupid bugger. But it was, he reminded himself, a bit too late for that. No, he had to think to the future. No thinking of his own happiness, think of Dom getting better, being happy again. Do a good deed, and then go back to your happy hobbit hole in Scotland, Billy told himself. Leave the young ones to their libations, and give your weary romantic heart a rest.

_I was living through the seconds  
My composure was a mess  
I was miles from tenderness  
It was dark outside, the day it was broken in pieces  
Everything is flat and dreary  
I couldn't care what's in the news  
Television is the blues  
Television is hysterical laughter of people  
And I know it could be me  
I'm always asking for more  
I keep running round in circles  
I keep looking for a doorway  
I'm going to need two lives  
To follow the paths I've been taking_

      Billy kept the telly on so that he could ignore his own situation. He watched the telly because the disasters were worse, and the triumphs of sitcom characters rosier than his own life. The shoot was almost over, and Dom seemed almost back to normal, ready to return to California and to Elijah. Billy had helped him find some good scripts, and he would be reading for a television show of his own, soon. Dom deserved to be on TV, to be one of the happy people. More than anyone, Dom deserved to be one of the happy people. But still, Billy couldn't help asking. Couldn't help wondering, in his head, if they couldn't ever share in each other's happiness.

      Billy watched in silence as Dom packed his bags, bit his lip and thought of birthday cakes and long walks to avoid the tears from pricking at his eyes. He couldn't lead a double life. He had to banish his fantasies, go back to Scotland. But, as Dominic pulled the zip on his suitcase tight and walked over, lowering himself into Billy's lap without asking, Billy couldn't help it.

      "Are you happy, Dommeh?"

      A sigh, a black-varnished nail sweeping across his field of vision as a strand of his own hair was brushed away. "You were always the one." Only a whisper, but tears shining in each pair of eyes told the other exactly what he needed to know.


End file.
